


Era Without Wings

by FiloX



Category: Gundam Wing, Saint Seiya
Genre: Gen, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 04:08:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16905816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FiloX/pseuds/FiloX
Summary: CROSSOVER: Gundam Wing/Saint Seiya! AU. It is the year 195AC, the war between Earth and the space colonies still goes on without end the technological developement either... will it evetually turn into a battle of technology rather than brute force?





	Era Without Wings

He woke.

He got up from his simple shelter and stepped out into the barely lit day.

He jumped into a rusting tractor, thumbing the control with speed and skill much admired by his fellow workmates.

The giant magnet plate floated above the multi-coloured sea of junk, like a leech, sucked up a bloody stream of rusted bent and twisted metals.

Crows and rats festered in this place, adding unpleasant squirming motion to the already unfortunate-looking landscape. He didn't care. Not really. At least not till he ran them over accidentally and had to clean out their sticky mince from the cracks in the chain wheels.

Oh yes, the stench of the garbage dump. How could one forget to mention that? Yet, he'd been here for as long as he could remember, so to him, this IS how air smell, as he knew it.

He raised his eyes to the heaven and saw the sky brightened from what looked an exploding supernova.

But to be able to see supernova so clearly in daylight?

Space warfare. The odd term jumped into his mind, confusing him.

He tried to conjure up more memories related to this term.

Nothing.

He turned his focus back to his routine work and filled his vision with miles of stretches of wasteland.

His name is Nanashi, because nobody knew his real name.

Nobody knew where he came from.

His co-workers just found him lying amongst the waste one morning. With no memory of his past.

When he opened his eyes for the first time, all he saw was a blur of red dominating his vision. He opened his mouth and all he could taste was metallic. But there, amidst his plain vision, a peek of midnight pierced the sharp colour of red, and wavered with the motion of water. He reached out tentatively with his newly formed hands, touching that blur of colour.

It tickled his palm.

Curious like a newborn kitten, he inched his face towards the strange object. The blur became clearer; it was a man's face. He reached forward and touched tentatively. He could feel hardened flesh upon the man's forehead – an old scar.

He wriggled awkwardly out of his loosened constrains, only to take a closer look at this novel object that first registered itself upon his fresh new consciousness. He twisted and turned, various tubes connecting to him broke loose. But when the last tube disconnected from his flesh, he found himself starving for oxygen. The only thought that filled his mind then was to  _get to the surface_.

He never knew what awaited him above the surface of the murky reddened liquid. Of course, in the first few minutes of his existence, what could he have known beyond the colour of red that filled his vision, and the man with blue hair that floated above him like a shelter.

 _He_ was his creator.


End file.
